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Poem by Thomas Urquhart


Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 44. Age meerly depending on the continuall Flux of time, we have very small reason to boast of a long life, already obtained: or be proud of the hope, hereafter to attaine un∣to it


THe present time doth fly away so fast,
That one can hardly follow't with his mind:
The Praeterit's a time already past:
And seeing the futur's still to come, we find,
Both those being absent, that they are not ours:
Although they breed to us no meane vexation,
Th'one with the slip'ry thought of ill-spent houres:
And th'other, with a carefull expectation.



Thomas Urquhart


Thomas Urquhart's other poems:
  1. Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 30. That the setled quiet of our mind ought not to be moved at sinister accidents
  2. Epigrams. The First Booke. № 33. The onely true progresse to a blessed life
  3. Epigrams. The Second Booke. № 42. The deserved mutability in the condition of too ambitious men
  4. Epigrams. The Third Booke. № 33. Why our thoughts, all the while we are in this tran∣sitory world, from the houre of our nativity, to the laying downe of our bodies in the grave, should not at any time exspaciat themselves in the broad way of destruction
  5. Epigrams. The First Booke. № 20. Of Negative, and Positive good


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